Broken Wings
by Dancing Turtle
Summary: [ON HIATUS] Warren contemplates life as a mutant. Perhaps he's learnt to accept who he is...or maybe he just wants the chance to be 'normal' again. X3 spoiler.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_'Broken Wings'  
_**Author: **Shy FX  
**Disclaimer**: Marvel characters belong to Marvel.  
**Main Character(s):** Warren Worthington/Angel. X-Men later on.  
**Fandom**: strictly X-Men (**MOVIEVERSE**)  
**Rating: **K+  
**Status: **in-progress  
**Summary:**Warren contemplates life as a mutant. Perhaps he's learnt to accept who he is...or maybe he just wants the chance to be 'normal' again. X3 spoiler.

* * *

_Chapter One_

The hallways looked darker, slightly more sombre than usual. He had known these halls or a very long time. Often as a young child, he would run up these pale, sky blue painted corridors, rushing to see his father after a long, dreary school day, leaping into his arms and giving him the hug that would determine to him that it didn't matter what sort of manifestation was going on inside the young man's body that would cause rifts, gaps, barriers to his father's connection. 

Yet now, he was walking slowly, unhurriedly, little by little, dreading the feel of that cold glass pane against his smooth dry palm. Taking a deep breath, he entered and looked around for the warm, affectionate smile that belonged to the one person who knew what was best for him, what was supposed to be done, what everybody wanted.

His father.

"Hello Warren."

As Warren stepped through the glass door, his attention was temporarily diverted when his eyes were met with the brilliant blue of the sky outside, throwing its natural beauty forcefully into the mediocre artificial lighting of the softly lit lab. He wondered to himself at that moment, if he had actually ever dare flown from a height into that wondrous cornflower, tinted chasm, underlined by the snowy white citadel, out of that oyster that seemed to block itself out from the severe environment that was inhabited by so many watchful angry spectators emitting their detestation and hatred towards that one magnificent glass skyscraper that stood out for so many reasons that would not be obvious to the other lone towers. It would look so similar to the other buildings if not for the singular reason of what it was meant to represent.

An end to the problem. An answer to mutation. A way to a normal life.

It was exactly what that little boy in the bathroom desperately trying to rid his body of any sign of transformation had wanted ever since the little white fluffy plumes had started to appear on his then spotless back.

"Hello Warren."

He probably should have politely replied, but he could not bring himself to talk. His father came straight to his side, throwing a comforting arm around his son's broad looking shoulders.

"Hey Warren. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," the young man replied in a nervous whisper.

As they walked to the uplifted stretcher, his father said to him in a comforting tone, "I'm really proud of you for doing this. You know, everything's going to be fine. I promise."

He then turned to him. "You ready?"

After a moments pause of what could have been hesitation, but simply bringing up mental courage, he nodded.

Without a second to waste, he determinedly pulled of his overall coat. The sound of latex gloves slapping on to the hands of the Dr. Kavita Rao could be clearly heard from where he was standing.

Although he knew that for certain in his mind this was what he wanted, he couldn't help but wonder. How would the mutation deteriorate? Would his wings fall lifelessly limp? Would the ivory feathers disperse and float to the ground? Would the bones that grew from his back disintegrate and collapse to leave him looking like what he had desperately wanted ever since his young, youthful hand had touched the black handle of that steel knife?

As the clink of the tiny metal clasps fastened over the leather cuffs on the stretcher over his arms, an immediate feeling of claustrophobia sunk in. His alertness started to increase considerably as the awareness of men starting to invade his space made his environment feel constricted. Automatically, the muscles in his jaw and shoulders bunched without warning.

"The transformation can be a little jarring." Dr Kavita started to take small steps toward the stretcher. Immediately, his brow started to furrow. What Warren had not expected to happen was actually proceeding. He was beginning to panic. For as long as Warren could remember, he didn't cope well in these kinds of situations. Being restricted was just something that put Warren on edge.

The realisation of what was actually about to happen finally seemed to sink in. His mutation would finally disappear.

He shot a glance at his dad.

Refusing to take the cure would be one thing, but to live on as a mutant was entirely another. How was one supposed to lead a normal life with wings sprouting from his back that was entirely impossible to hide from staring eyes? If he took this cure, he would never have to worry about that again.

But now that he had the chance to transform in to a _normal _person he couldn't bring himself to accept what was happening. His wings had become part of him. To take them away would be like cutting off his arms or his legs. Thy were just as much a part of him than any other part of the body that people needed to survive. In some cases he had even considered that he didn't look disfigured and grotesque as some mutants did.

In the spec of a morning sunlight or flicker of moonshine, he had once believed that he could resemble an angel.

Why would anyone want to be rid of something as extraordinary and wondrous as that? Wasn't it possible to be a mutant that wasn't harmful in anyway? What damage and destruction could wings cause?

The only problem that had ever arisen from his mutation was the insolence of other people, and even that was something that was totally morally evil. In fact, weren't there some out there that actually prided themselves on their mutations? Proved to the world that they could help and make use of their supposedly dangerous powers? Why exactly couldn't _he _be one of these people?

The sound of the spring of the inoculation from the injection was surprisingly terrifying.

Why indeed.

"Um, Dad, could we talk about this for a second?" Warren started to squirm against the leather of the stretcher. The men were surprisingly strong.

From where his father was standing, he showed no sign of exerting sympathy or a another chance to mull things over.

"We've talked about it son. It'll all be over soon." Weariness could be picked up in his voice. He wanted this over and done with as soon as possible. He too knew that Warren didn't respond well to pressure, but he had pushed that thought aside for the time being due to the here and now.

Dr. Kavita leaned forward and swabbed at a space on his right arm that was attached to stretcher .Suddenly, the realisation of what was actually about to happen finally seemed to sink in. His mutation would finally disappear Just as she leaned forward with the injection, Warren suddenly spoke out.

"Wait!"

Dr Kavita's eyes shot up.

Still squirming, Warren tried to reason. "I can't do this."

With a firm look in his eye, his father replied, "Warren, calm down."

Restlessness and agitation ran through his arms, begging to be set free from the shackles.

"No, I can't do this."

Edginess started to take him over as he started to struggle uncontrollably.

"I promise you, it'll be fine!"

"Dad!"

Miraculously his hands wormed their way out of the leather cuffs and out in to open space. Without warning he threw back his fists as hard as he could, slamming in to the men who had tried so hard to refrain him. As they flew back, his wings extended to take up an astounding amount of space in that compact lab. They were glorious.

Vast white feathers that reached across the spread of his wings, they stretched out defiantly in front of those who had attempted to rid him of them..

"Warren…this is what we all want," his father looked at him with pleading eyes that begged resonance.

Warren shook his head. He was the one with a firm look in his eye now.

"No. It's what _you _want." With a last look at his father, Warren aimed straight for the spotless clear window that he had first looked through when he had entered that lab and took off at running start.

"Warren!"

Without looking back he smashed through the glass and into the vast open space of the world below.

Shards of glass and trinkets of crystal went flying off the surface of the wall and bounded off his exterior.

As the feel of smooth cold breeze, slightly stinging, ran along his bare torso, he knew he had made the right choice. Was this what it felt like to be a mutant?

To soar with incredible speed through the wide open skies and look down on the protesters in defiance of what they had no idea of or any chance of ever getting to experience?

He truly pitied them.  
And to think he was going to exterminate his power, his blessing…his _gift_. As the wind blew through his hair, and the sun shone its glow over the city that he now glided through, he decided, this was definitely something worth fighting for. No authoritative figures or tyrants would ever take this away from him.  
He would stay this way because that was who he was.


	2. Chapter 2

For the past few hours, he had been making good coverage over most of the city. Now he was just randomly gliding at inhuman speed between the lilac clouds that were now slowly turning darker as the night sky began to take its lead over the world.

Not letting thoughts of the previous incident with his father back in the labs stir in his mind, he refused to slow his pace through the pink mist. He wasn't ready to land…in fact, he wasn't even entirely sure he knew how.

What was he thinking taking off like that from such a perilously lofty height? He could have misaligned his wings and ended up crashing right in to the sea of protesters…an accident like that could have had the potential to kill him…

_But at least it would have drawn huge media attention, _he thought bitterly. Most of it outside the towers weren't even for the protesters. Warren was to be the first mutant in history to have taken the cure for the mutant disease, and that was something of a privilege that Warren had been dreading with anxiety rather than anticipating.

Although he tried to block it out, there was no telling that he would never be able to go back now. If anything it would be even more impossible for him to maintain a relationship with his father.

How could he expect someone like his father to understand a grown man throwing his life in quicksand? Warren had been given the chance to start afresh form the curse, and now he had thrown it back in his father's concerned face. He didn't feel shame, he felt anger. Anger that it was now when the cure was no longer desirable to him, that he had almost been forced to take. Anger that it wasn't produced when it was needed the most when he was terrified young man too scared to go out in public in case a single feather should be in the least bit conspicuous.

Why should _he _have to be ordered to comply? It was his fix, not theirs.

A air-piercing scream distracted Warren from his train of thoughts. His head quickly snapped downwards in the direction of the cry. It was now that he realised he had gone off route and had entered the more derelict and dilapidated parts of town. Dark lights form the broken streetlights provided some sort of glow on the ruins of what looked to be a hideout fit for recluses and miscreations. Still flying at a fixed rapid speed, he arched his wings slightly to bring down his speed and land in a visible open spot near a bent, rusted lamppost. As he feet neared the ground, his momentum slowed down considerably with his wings in tact. But because he arched his wings too near to landing, he ended up concluding his flight skimming along the ground, falling forward on his knees. He let out a grunt as his arms grabbed for stable ground, not letting the fresh grazes from the rough ground sting his hands. Looking at his arms he realised he was still raw from the cuts of the escape back form the labs.

He snapped his attention back to the situation, got up on his feet and took a look around at this new location. The deserted street was washed in midnight translucence from the murky streetlights, with the occasional fleeting shadow moving out of the corner of his eye.

He took a cautious step forward.

_Where did the scream come from? _

Suddenly, the sound of trash cans vibrating from a precisely aimed spit spun Warren around.

"Hey look guys, it's the _angel _from Worthington Labs." He turned to see several dark, leather clad figures walking towards him. Warren immediately recognised their distinctive tattoos as members of the Morlocks. They were at least five with a few more in the background seeming to be cursing and kicking at a figure lying on the ground that spat at one Morlock in return.

"What are you doing here, Worthington? Lost your halo?" Warren shot a dirty look in the direction of a snigger from one of the surrounding mutants.

Warren immediately stepped forward with the intention of heading to the small crowd. He was abruptly stopped by a mutant with several piercing stepping in to his path.

"I don't think so." Warren stared in amazement as the mutant released keen piercing spikes form every inch of the skin on is face. The spiked mutant raised an eyebrow at him.

"I heard a scream." He replied with firm voice. He motioned with a nod to the gang behind them who's attacks seemed to be coming to an end.

They both looked at the gang behind them.

"It was one of _them _from the Friends." He turned back to face Warren. "But we took care of it. Thanks for your concern anyway."

He then turned to the victim, who was now lying in a pool of blood with several sharp needles protruding form out of every available space on his body.

The perpetrator now sniggered whilst admiring his work.

Taking in the foul sight, Warren could feel the irritation start to build up in him. "You didn't need to do that."

"Yeah? Well, that drunk bastard didn't need to hurt Torpid. Came stumbling along here and decided he'd like to strangle some mutie scum. Moronic human didn't even know that Torpid could lock his nervous system. Indefinitely, if I have my way."

He then spun around walked over to lifeless body and kicked it hard in the stomach.

"Retard."

Warren turned away from the vile scene and directed his attention to the gang who had dispersed and was now walking away with a young child of about 8 years old who seemed to be rubbing her throat and crying, whilst being comforted by some mutants whose efforts were in vain. At that moment, Warren could feel the bile rise in his throat. Putrid disgust flooded every pore on his body, not being bale to bring himself to look up.

"But more straight to the question, what are _you _doing _here_?" Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the other figures closing in in on him, but he didn't care.

"I heard a scream. I though I should help," he replied in a stiff voice.

"_Do we look like we need any help?" _Apprehensive silence followed as Warren looked at their livid faces awaiting his answer. It was then that he understood.

Even if the Mutant Registration Act was never passed, even if the cure was abolished, even if the mutants and humans declared social peace between the two races, they could never live together in social harmony.

To discriminate socially, to make a distinction between people because of racial, religious, sexual, ethnic and age-related discrimination…and now? Mutation was falling in to that classification.

Religion couldn't be cured. Ethnicity couldn't be diminshed. Age couldn't be reversed. Why should mutation be available fora cure?

Now Warren was so taken aback by even the most ignorant of actions form some random passing human. An unprovoked attack on an innocent young girl who shouldn't have even been in street like this at this time of night. It made him want to question what the point of being your own person when there were so many things, even the most trivial of things that could perceive you as 'freak' to society.

"I didn't think so." The mutants started to disperse and walk off in the opposite direction towards the darker send of the street.

Without turning back, the lead mutant yelled, " Go home, Worthington. You don't belong here."

Now standing alone in the deserted street, Warren attempted to clear his head and gather his thoughts.

He _was _right.

What was he even doing here? Someone like him who had been guarded and hidden behind a powerful figure all his life? Trying to play hero? Who was he kidding?

It was true, he _didn't _belong there.

And he definitely didn't belong to the Worthington empire.

There was only one place he could go now.

Straightening out his wings and arching forward, Warren gathered momentum to take off in the middle of the street, his wings heaved foward with force and started to take off from the ground at ample speed. Now off the ground, he glided above the darkened city andstarted heading in the direction of Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters.

------------------

**A/N: i'm so sorry it took me forever to update, but I finally got round to it (after about a million years!)was kinda caught up with exams and stuff, anywayz, its here now…i was actually quite nervous about submitting this cos I don't know how likely it would have been for this to happen in the film. What i'm trying to do is fill in the gaps and stuff between Warren's screen time and all, (so that's actually quite a lot isn't it?)lol! I'm actually typing up next chap right now, so it'll be along shortly. (unless something else comes along to distract me, that is!)lol!**

**xXx Shy FX**


	3. Chapter 3

Slowly, he walked up the path to the mansion, his footsteps making loud crunching sounds on the gravel. As Warren looked about the grounds, he took in the sight of the astoundingly grand school. Huge in comparison to other boarding schools he had been to, this was a sight, especially when the sun was shining on it on a day like this, flowing like liquid gold over it green and grey exterior. It brought up his sprits slightly from the anxiety of wanting to avoid this place completely. Earlier on, he had become aware of everything that had happened with the school's benefactor, Charles Xavier, in the suburban home of the school's own headmaster, Doctor Jean Grey. The details were fuzzy and vague, and Warren only knew of what his housekeeper, Rosario had told him when he had gone back to his own mansion and waited on the balcony outside his bedroom until everyone was asleep.

He had needed to grab a few essentials, as he didn't want to face another day with nothing but his jeans form the previous day. As he snuck in during the early morning light, he was relieved to find that no one but the was awake, giving him the perfect opportunity to get to his bedroom unnoticed. It didn't feel right going back there, especially if no-one with the exception of Rosario knew he would be there. The chance of bumping in to his father whilst there was something that Warren pushed out of his mind completely, and didn't even want to begin to think of. He wasn't ready to face his father yet. It wasn't cowardice, he was just angry. His father wouldn't have changed his mind about anything, and Warren was still adamant about the cure. Another argument would ensue, and he wasn't up for that, especially after a whole night of flying.

---

The door opened to reveal a young woman in her twenties, with very long dark hair that went straight to her waist. Her hair shined with an inhuman sheen that sparkled in the morning sunlight. It would be obvious to anyone she was stunning. Not least because of her piercing black eyes that were so perpetual.

With a warm, welcoming smile, she said, "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Yes, I wish to speak with Ororo Munroe, please."

Since Charles Xavier and Jean Grey were no longer at the mansion, Warren assumed she would be the person temporarily in charge.

"Sure. Come in" She steeped back from the door and motioned for Warren to come in. "Follow me."

There were a few people, presumably students, that were walking up and down the hallway. Nobody seemed to notice the new guest as they all had sombre facial expressions, due to what had happened with Charles Xavier. Warren now felt anxious for coming at a time like this. Two teachers gone missing, one presumed dead, and the very benefactor of the school had been very recently deceased. The last thing these people needed on their minds was the son of the very man that had made the cure available, another heavy load on their mind.

As Warren walked beside her down the long, finely polished hallway, the woman beside him finally spoke.

"You're Warren Worthington, right?"

He wasn't sure how to reply to this. The subject of the cure would most definitely come up and that was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

Warren could start to feel the colour tickle in his cheeks.

"It's okay," she leaned forward and whispered, "everyone's welcome here," she added with reassuring smile.

"I'm Holly, by the way. I teach here."

Warren decided at that moment he was comfortable with this person. He couldn't figure out why, it was probably because of her job as at teacher to make every one feel at ease. He could have even sworn that he felt some sort of physical similarity with her, despite the fact he had no idea how.

"Uh, I'm Warren.," he replied.

She stared back at him blankly.

"Oh, right you already know that." He stammered. He could instantly feel the colour flood back to his cheeks. She let out a small laugh and flashed him a brilliant grin. Warren bowed down his head whilst walking and tried to avoid eye contact with her.

They kept walking until they stopped at an open door leading in to lounge room with a small group in it. Holly motioned inside and Warren entered. Inside, there were four people, three sitting on the sofas with solemn faces, and an attractive middle aged black woman leaning against a table by the window. Warren's attention was temporarily directed to furry blue man who was seated at the far end of one of the sofas that seemed to resemble beast. Snapping his attention back to the situation, he eventually decided to speak.

"I'm sorry…I know this is a bad time, but I was told this was a safe place for mutants."

"Well, it used to be," the blue furry beast spoke. He sat up and leaned forward with both arms resting on his knees.

Then the woman seemed to hesitate a moment before giving Warren a fixed look and replying in a firm voice, "and it still is."

She got off the desk and turned to a young teenager sitting opposite her.

"Bobby, could you please show our guest to his room." The young, blond man got off the sofa and faced Warren with a small smile. As Warren followed him out of the room, he offered him a hand. "I'm Bobby."

"Hey, I'm Warren."

He left out his last name on purpose. Warren decided it would be best to avoid those details until later. Bobby showed him to a room with finely polished wooden boards, much like the rest of the mansion, or most of what he ahd seen.

Before leaving, Bobby paused in the door way, "This okay?"

"Yes, I'll be comfortable here, thank you," Warren replied. Bobby gave him smile before shutting the door behind him.

---


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Took Holly out of the fic. Thankfully she didn't have much of an impact on the fic anyway. Sorry about the delay. Did not like me at all. Happy reading!

---

A day had passed since he had moved in to the mansion, and in that space of time he had gotten to know the majority of the inmates. Amongst them, there were several who had mysterious and unknown past and their own reasons for seeking refuge at the mansion which they wished not to discuss, which was fine by him, so long as he could avoid the discussion of his own grounds for arriving at the X-mansion.

On his first day, he had met Bobby, the cryokinetic mutant who kindly showed him to his room, who had the ability to manipulate water molecules and tamper with the temperature to make any object within a certain radius freeze to pure ice. The control and expertise Bobby could exert amazed Warren, as did the powers of other students who showed control just as well. Many of the students walked about the halls of the school demonstrating their powers as if it was a usual occurrence of daily life

Children went walking the hallways levitating paper planes with nothing more than mere hand movements. Young boys ran up walls, sat down and taunted their friends whilst staring down at them vertically. He had even met a girl with the ability to phase straight through walls and objects like she was ghost. All of this stunned Warren within the first few hours of arrival, but then he had surprisingly found himself feeling at home around the students who were confident to display there own powers and not even be bothered when others did the same. He felt a gradual relief of choosing to come to the mansion that quickly turned into a mental confirmation that he'd done the right thing.

Not even the surprise arrival of his father the X-Mansion was enough to falter his decision.

---

"Hey, kid! There's someone here to see you." A gruff voice made Warren turn around from where he was sitting in the lounge talking with some of the students.

"Me?"

"Well, I'm not talking to anyone else, so I'm guessing yeah, you." A tall man with a not unfriendly aura and a strong build that the children liked to call Wolverine, otherwise known as Logan to the older students, motioned for Warren to follow. He stepped out in to the hallway, with Warren in tact. Warren paused on the spot when he realised who was in the hallway.

"I'll leave you two alone." Warren stared after Logan as he walked down the hallway and out of sight.

Slowly, Warren turned back to face his father who stood rooted to the spot with his hands clasped in a straight posture. Then followed painfully long silence, with nothing but the faint sound of laughter and chatter coming from the lounge down the hallway. Maintaining eye contact, his father finally decided to speak.

"I'm sorry, Warren." Words that Warren wasn't expecting now filled him with surprise. He swallowed and managed to gather enough nerves to reply.

"Sorry about what?"

"Sorry that I couldn't protect you."

Again there was the painful silence that was filled with regret and traces of guilt.

"You did protect me, Dad. I don't want your protection anymore."

With an exasperated sigh, his father threw up his hands frustration.

"Then what do you want? Warren, I don't know what to say, you're my son, all I can do is offer you guidance and-"

"I'm not coming back."

Warren now felt the same kind resistance he had experienced back at the labs being summoned up again. He was going to stand his ground.

"Warren-"

"You should go."

His eyes widened at the bold statement just put forward, but unexpectedly, instead of questioning Warren's new found obstinacy, his eyes fell and after a moment, turned around and walked in the opposite direction of the hallway towards the main doors.

With that, Warren exhaled with relief, not at his father's departure, but that his father's current attempt to drag his son back to Worthington empire was over.

But that was just it. It wasn't over. And Warren knew he would have to face him again, and goodness knew if their connection wouldn't have deteriorated by an even bigger scale by their next encounter.

---

The weather forecast had changed again, now sunny skies occupied the overhead throwing washes of gold across the mansion and pouring into the windows of the building. Despite the uplifting weather, there were faint outlines of grey-blue in the far distant sky that showed threatening signs of and angry storm recurring at any time it felt it wanted.

"Ah, Warren, beautiful day isn't it?"

He stepped away from the window to face Ororo Monroe who now came walking through the empty teachers' lounge she had requested Warren to be for a talk earlier on that day.

She walked across the room and motioned for Warren to take seat. Her smile looked somewhat forced and tired. He couldn't blame her. The school been through a lot. He sat down on one red sofas facing the window, next to Ororo.

"Just wanted to see how your time at the school so far has been. Good, I hope?" She asked with a uplifted tone.

"Yeah, I've met a lot of people, gotten to make some friends. I really feel like I can fit in here without…being scared, I guess," he replied.

She nodded thoughtfully and looked own, then after a moments pause looked back up with an anticipating expression.

"Now, I need to talk to you about something quite imperative. I know this is quite sudden but I need to ask you if you would be willing to take on a the duty of being …an X-men. I'm sure Piotr has explained to you what I mean by this." She looked him in the a with a solemn look. He recalled the earlier conversation he'd had with a Russian young man who had the astounding ability to induce his skin in to metal, making him virtually invulnerable. Piotr had told him about the duties and priorities the X-Men made their primary focus, such as being a teacher at the school and the 'sidelined' activities.

"Yes…but as much as I'm flattered…I'm not sure I'm the right person," he replied uncertainly.

"Warren, the situation here is that our services as the X-Men will be needed very soon by people who are still hesitant to accept our existence. I'm sure you're aware that its very likely there will be an attack on Alcatraz Island soon."

She now moved closer to Warren and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Warren I'm aware of the situation between you and your father, and believe me, we will take whatever care and do whatever we can to help in any way. We're all family here. A lot of people that attend this school will know exactly where you're coming from but, this is a chance to prove to your father what an amazing gift you have…"

He looked up at her hopeful, determined eyes. With what seemed to be a returning flicker of fear and the urge to withdraw. Warren forced the impulse off and sat up straight.

"Okay."

---

Storm had arranged for Bobby to show Warren the floor underneath the school where all the extra facilities were kept out of sight. Standing in the elevator side by side, Bobby now looked at Warren with a tiny knowing grin of where they were about to go.

They made their way down to what was otherwise known as the X-mansion base to the students. Apparently, this was the same headquarters that the infamous Cerebro was located.

Once the elevator stopped, they stepped out into a wide round room that was illuminated by white halogen lights projected from the surrounding wall. His new surroundings left Warren in awe as he tried to take in the amazing sight.

He looked around to see an astoundingly huge collection of what appeared to be at first glance displayed leather biker outfits. He took a step in to the wide luminescent surface and inhaled a sharp intake of breath at the reminiscence of being back in one the laboratories of Worthington Labs. The room seemed to take the shape of semi circle upon entrance, of course it was hard to tell with the seemingly invisible white walls.

On closer inspection it dawned on him, these were the uniforms that distinguished the X-Men. He recalled images of the X-Men on liberty island back when they had become involved in a battle with Magneto's Brotherhood atop the statue of liberty. What followed was an amazing display of flying colours and an immense explosion. At the time, Warren was surprised these people were bold enough to exert their mutant powers and display it in front of a world that hated them.

"Here it is". Bobby motioned towards a clear transparent mannequin enclosed inside a glass cylinder that displayed another x-men uniform. Just like the others it had faint yellow lines running across the uniform to symbolise an 'X'. What was different about this that caught Warren's attention was the attachments on the back of the mannequin. With components cleverly hidden for fastening and leaving a crafted open compartment for his wings, drawing from the suit up, giving the illusion the uniform was one whole piece with no separating components. His eyes were drawn to the top half of the mannequin, where arching slightly from the shoulders and bending downwards was a pair of see through modelled silver wings reaching down to just the right height of bottom of the wings where they ended.

At that moment, Warren felt it. What he'd wanted for as long he was child, along with the desire to hide away from the world, the _other _urge, the one that so strongly just wanted to be accepted. To be part of a community. To be welcomed with open arms.

"We leave in the Blackbird in a few hours. You'll be ready, right?" Warren snapped out of his thoughts to look at the young teenager at his side he looked at him optimistically.

Ready.

He was.

To begin life as a member of the X-Men.

---

A/N I hope you enjoyed this chapter as I endured some pain whilst getting this done. While I was writing this chapter, my mate came over to my house and threw a book at me when I wouldn't step away from the computer. Ouch. :(

Seriously tho, this is the last chapter before this goes back on hold…_sorry_…I feel bad , and I will get back to this, just not straight away. Maybe in a few weeks probably :P But until then, Tc 'broken wings' readers! C ya soon:D

xXx shy FX

P/S: and remember to leave a review!


End file.
